My Slytherin Secret
by Demon King Zero
Summary: The life of a first year Slytherin during the events of the Sorcerer's Stone. With many secrets to hide and making more lies than truth. Will they be able to stay hidden behind the fog of lies or will there puzzle be solved.
1. Chapter One: I wish I could leave

My first fanfiction I hope you like it.

Chapter One: I wish I could leave

"Slytherin," the sorting hat yelled while the table to right-most burst into applauds. With my ears still ringing I walked over to the table.

Unfortunately for me the loud noises did not come to an end after the sorting was over. My table, the Slytherin, was in fact next to the rowdiest table, the Gryffindor's I believe they are called. It would have been easier to just ignore them if very so often they didn't throw their dinner at us. By us I mean the other firth years and me who thought that we should sit together so to make friends and not bother the older students. After the unpleasant experience of having to pull peas from my hair and dodging mashed potatoes I have cleverly decided to find somewhere else to eat later.

The headmaster stood up and everyone was soon silent. "I have a few start-of-term notices to you now that we are all fed and watered."

It made be true that I was fed but trying to survive as well. Are we to far away from the teachers table for them to see or do they just don't care.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Who would be stupid enough to enter a forest called the Forbidden Forest anyways it's like asking to die a horrible gruesome death. Apparently to red-headed twins as the headmaster flashed his eyes in their direction.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."

Because what else would kids/teenagers with wands want to do.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch."

So even even the wizards have useless like sports but they would probably be even more ridiculous because it's a wizard sport.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death," the headmaster, Dumbledore, finished with only a few students, mostly first years, laughing at his final statement thinking it was a joke but soon stopped when they noticed the older students weren't laughing. Then realized that the headmaster was not joking and was very serious.

I seriously think I made a mistake in coming to this school but nothing to be down to be about I am sure that they won't just leave a dangerous place unsupervised and be impossible for students to enter.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. The other teachers smile's, I noticed, had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon glue out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, " and off we go!"

And the whole school proceeded to bellow:

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

Is it to late to leave go to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic? I wondered as the last two which were the red-head twins finished as slowly as humanly-I mean wizardry possible.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now bedtime. Off you trot!"

I definitely agree if the song was meant for us question the sanity of the founders and run away. Not even me with zero talent at song writing could screw up that badly. Not that I've ever tried to make a song but I am sure that it would not scared away kids.

Seeing as I was being left behind I quickly jogged to catch up with the other first years Slytherin being lead by whom I assume could only be the head-boy and head-girl.

We were taken down to the dungeon and after many twists and turns ended up in front of a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.

"The password is 'Salazar'," and on cue a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. "Make sure not to forget it or else you'll be locked out."

Inside the Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and a ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were having on chains. A fire was cracking under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them. It did not fit my image of warm and cozy but as long as I had a bed I could care less.

Being lead by the head-girl we were given a quick explanation of where our room was and not to enter any of the older girls room unless they wanted to be scared for life.

Unlike most of the girl who just undressed and collapsed in bed. I went to wash out the grease from my hair that came from chicken after that I plopped into bed and drifted off to a place where reality is forgotten.


	2. Chapter Two: Classes Part One

Chapter Two: Classes Part One

"Did you see him?"

"It really is the Harry Potter."

"The one with glasses?"

"He was next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Did you see his scar?"

These were examples of what most students were whispering about in their little group's of friends. I felt pity for Harry Potter when I saw him at his house table, which just so happens to be the one who threw their dinner at us, for breakfast he looked utterly confused with the amount of attention he was receiving from the student body. But no amount of pity could very make me want to be in his place. I also am not quite sure if to be grateful for him seeing as the Gryffindors didn't start a one-way food fight, maybe it is just a time thing.

Getting to class seemed impossible when staircases would decide to move or have a vanishing step halfway up which you had to jump over. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. With everything moving around so much I doubt that anyone could make a much needed map of this place.

I was actually able to make it to my first class History of Magic before the bell rugged. It was taught by Professor Binns, a ghost which is rumored to have one fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach and left his body behind him. Some would think that a professor with such passion that he refused to quit teaching even after dying would be able to capture the attention of the class for longer then a couple of minutes.

Binns droned on and on as we, the first year Slytherin and first year Ravenclaw, struggled to jot down names and dates. At least most of were struggling out the corner of my eye I could see one Ravenclaw boy sleeping on his desk. I guess not all Ravenclaw are interested in about Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mix up. I found it quite fascinating that Emeric was able to confuse everyone into believing that he was Uric then escaping imprisonment and later lead to the Ministry passing laws about being able to use the 'Prior Incantato' which reveals to them a wands last spell/cast. It lead to a debate about invasion of privacy and surprisingly Uric who had been let out a month ago disagree with the idea of using the spell as well, he really did solidify oddness. The Ministry ignore the people and only made a few changes to the law so others other then wizards or witches for the Ministry could have permission to use the spell to calm people down.

The class ended without any incidents. I sincerely hope that all my other classes are as enjoyable as this one. After packing my thing I noticed Ravenclaw boy from before waking up from his nap. Just by looking at him once I could more or less make out his personalty and if I was to only use one word to describe him it would be lazy. His droopy, thoughtless filled eyes which showed not even the ability of being able think properly accompanied by a messy head-bed and drool running the side of his mouth did nothing but shatter the image of a studious Ravenclaw who loves to do nothing but cram their brain cells with facts. At moments like these one has to stop and wonder what in blazes was the Sorting Hat thinking putting someone like that in Ravenclaw but then you remember that the Sorting Hat lacks a brain to even think at all.

My next class was Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, the head of Gryffindor House. She held the air of a strict and clever person whom you should never cross. She gave us a talk about class rules, exceptions, and homework the moment that everyone one was seated.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

She then changed her desk into a pig and back again. As if that was suppose to impress us, half the class burst into applauds and cheering, never mind. But in my defense most people in Slytherin are from a high ranking family in the magic community who see high level magic being performed everyday where's Hufflepuff is said to made up of mostly muggle born wizards and witches who have never seen real magic until recently. Professor McGonagall seem to notice the lack of enthusiasm from half the class and the earnestness cheering from the other.

"It's Slytherin and Hufflepuff, I see," her face became more relaxed than before as she took note of this.

After taking may notes on how to channel your energy and the make up of wood and silver. It included many more complicated things that no beginner would understand unless they studied over the summer or were a genius. I probably being one of the only few who had read the books assigned cover to cover did not find it as hard to understand the concept of the notes. Therefor, then being given a match and being told to start trying to turn it into a needle I didn't have to reread the notes.

By the time half the class was over I was actually able to successfully turn the match into a needle. The other Slytherin did not have as much success as me but still better than the Hufflepuff. While they were able to get the match to at least make it the color silver, take the shape of a needle, or even make the match wood into metal. The Hufflepuff on the other hand showed no single of improving. They also took notice of their non-appearance success and did the worst thing possible.

They looked at us with puppy dog eyes that were so pitiful and cute that if you said no to them you were obviously a sociopath. Contrary to what everyone else seems to think about Slytherin we do not have stone hearts and when put with so many watery eyes any resident was futile, not even looking away would help. Having caved in then glanced at each other before picking up our own match and chair and walking towards a Hufflepuff.

I ended up being paired with a thin, delicate, and feminine looked boy. His head blooming with charcoal black, silky hair followed with big, clam ocean blue eyes and finished with soft looking rosie cheeks and lips. If I was to describe him in one word it would be cute. With much difficulty and stuttering I found out his name was Everett Goodwitch.

By the end of class the Hufflepuff have proven that they were not as hopeless as we thought. In fact they were some quiet bright, they only had trouble understanding what the book was saying which is understandable as most of them are from muggle familys. After getting an explanation that was much more simpler some Hufflepuff showed immediate improvement. So, once the bell rang to signal the end of class they had caught up with us, the Slytherin.

Professor McGonagall who had watched this all transpired had done nothing now gave the class a bit of homework and not the rumored mountain load. When Everett and me showed her our needles she exuded us from it.


	3. Chapter Three: Classes Part Two

Chapter Three: Classes Part Two

Defense Against the Dark Arts was a class I was particularly looking forward to. So, when Professor Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke I felt like I have been cheated. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which most said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. Personally I find this rumor very hard to believe first off based on the Professor's personality I doubt that he would ever involved himself with anything potentially dangerous. The garlic must be to actually cover up another smell. When a question aroused about his turban he told us that it had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for having gotten rid of a troublesome zombie, but many including myself found it hard to believe his story.

We had Herbology three times a week in which we went out to the greenhouses behind the castle with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout. She would teach us how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for. On every Thursday at midnight we would have to study the night skies through our telescopes. It was hard to concentrate when sleep is attempting to overtake me.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. He gave us a class to study in other words gave us free time to do whatever but study. I like many of the other Slytherin at least took out our text book and flip to a random page.

Most were discussing about the classes, teachers, and the pile of homework that was so high that they would die before they could finish it. I found myself thinking back to the time I had helped the Hufflepuff, Everett Goodwitch. He held the name Goodwitch which were an old pure-blood family that have been on the rise the past couple of years. Something about this didn't add up he should have been able to cast the spell with only some trouble. Most pure-blood family teach their children the basics I know that much from being in Slytherin. What would he have to lie for then? It's not like he's doing himself any favors by acting like he's ignorant.

Friday finally came around which meant we would be having our last classes for the week. Double Potions taught by Professor Snape, the Head of Slytherin House. Some older students had told us that he does favor his house but he will still give you the grade you deserve so it's best not to turn in garbage unless you want to fail.

Potions class was in the dungeons near the common room which I was grateful for, I didn't have to lug around my satchel to breakfast and only had to go back to the common room to pick it up for class. Inside the classroom it had pickled animals floating around in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the class roll call and paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new — _celebrity_."

This caused Draco Malfoy and his friends whom I don't remember their names to laugh behind their hands. Which made it clear to the rest of us that poor Harry must have cross the Malfoy heir. Non of course would defend Harry because he had gotten himself into that mess but we are also not going to help Malfoy, unless there benefits.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you are`t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed after his speech. One could clearly tell that he was very passionate about potion-making but had to deal with idiots who could make anyone lose faith in the future generation.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

A clueless Harry looked at his tall red-headed friend for help but he looked as equally stumped as Harry was. A bushy brown hair Gryffindor girl on the hand had shot her hand into the air.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer. My own lips curled upward enjoy watching him squirm.

"Tut, tut — fame clearly isn't everything."

He continued to ignore the bushy haired girl's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Bushy haired girl stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn't even seem to have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. Malfoy and his two friends also seemed be enjoying the show as they were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Snape was still ignoring the bushy haired girl's quivering hand. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, bushy haired girl stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling and I mean who wouldn't at this question it was actually really easy as long as you used common sense, for the wizard world.

"I didn't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

If I had popcorn that would just be perfect. A few people laughed; Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Seriously though what era did wizards think we're in, have they ever even heard about of a pen and paper. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

Snape then put us into pairs to mix up a simple potion to cure boils. Unfortunately there was an odd number of Slytherin and Gryffindor, I had failed to notice this and was about to form a group of three with another pair when someone tapped me on my shoulder.

Turning around my eyes met storm gray ones. The person had tapped me was a Gryffindor boy with such dark blonde hair that one could even call it golden.

"Would you be my partner?" he said it with so much confidence that you would think he was trying to ask a girl out. I looked back to my fallow Slytherin only to get looks of pity.

I nodded and picked up my bag to go where he was sitting. His smile vanished at this, like he was disappointed that he couldn't win with the other Slytherin.

Snape swept around in his long black cloak, watching the class weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. A stupid looking Gryffindor boy had somehow managed to melt his partner's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. My self-preservation skills kicked in fast and I was soon standing on my stool before my shoes could get ruined, the rest of the class follow my example while the stupid boy, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapse, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

The stupid boy only whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose. But I had to admit it is pretty impressive that he managed to screw up this horribly on possible the easiest potion that we will ever brew in our seven years in Hogwarts.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at the partner of the stupid boy. The he turn to the person who had been closest to the stupid boy which just happened to be Harry and his red-headed friend.

"You — Potter — why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

By the end of class the Gryffindor whom I had been partnered with seem to have wanted to chat with me but I had no interest in getting to know him so I just ignored him and went deeper into the dungeons to the where the Slytherin common room was, he wasn't brave or stupid enough to follow me because when I glanced back to see if he was still following he was gone.


	4. Chapter Four: Dinner

After some thought I decided to go to the library to do some homework. Two dead-ends and an unfortunate run in with Peeves the Poltergeist later I was at the entrance of the library. Inside there were shelves filled with all sorts of things like _Dragon Species of Great Britain_ to _Spells For Cooking Like a Professional_.

Most of the homework was easy and tedious. By the time I was done it was around four thirty and barely anyone else was left in the library. Concluding that now was a good time to leave I gathered my things.

As I was passing by a table I noticed that it many books and parchment strewed upon it. Curiously I picked up one of the many papers after making sure that no one was looking in my direction. On it was magic circle with notes scribbled around it. By the notes I could deduce that the person wanted to create a space where plants could grow faster but the circle they are using it's wrong.

"What's wrong with it?" Asked a voice from the other side of the table. The voice belonged to a boy with milk chocolate brown hair and light grass green eyes that glowed with a thirst for answers.

Nonchalantly I answered, "The ratio between present time and the time in the circle is not accounted for."

"Yes, it does if you look here," I passed him the diagram and he pointed to several places on it. "Not wrong now is it?" He flashed a triumphant smile.

I was not impressed. "It is very unstable. If you were to use it like this there would be at beat a fifteen percent chance of success. I suggest using the double circle format."

"But that would means that the magical would be increased and the cool-down would take anywhere from four to five days," he frowned at the idea. "I want something that could be used daily."

At this point I sat down in a chair and grabbed the parchment that had the circle on it and flipped it over to draw on. I doodled two circles overlapping with a bigger one surrounding them. He as well, sat down across from me now looking at my sketch.

"Would something like this even work?" He lifted one of his eyebrows at me with a skeptical expression. I just sighed and started to explain my thoughts.

In the middle of our heated discussion Madam Pince interrupted us to inform us that the library was closing. For a window I could see that had fallen without me noticing. Quickly I helped the boy stuff his bag with his notes and books. We both practically ran down the stairs and halls in hope of being able get at least some in our empty stomachs.

Rounding the last corner to the Great Hall I almost ran into someone but the boy behind me was unable to stop and we all fell over like dominoes.

"Sorry," I groaned as I got up.

"Sorry, mate didn't see there," the boy apologize as well. "You wouldn't happen to know if dinner is over would you?"

"I-it is but i-if you like I cou-could show you to the kit-kitchen," he stammered out his voice only above a whisper.

He reminded me of Everett but because he was look down I couldn't see his face with the unmistakable blue eyes. As I was about to ask him if he was Everett another voice called out.

"Hey, where were you? I've been waiting for you," this time I knew who the person was the Gryffindor boy who had been my partner in potions class. "You forgot your book in class."

Blinking I took the book from his hands which was one I remember putting in my bag but nonetheless I smiled politely as thanks.

"So, you haven't had dinner ether?" Questioned the boy that had came with me form the library and getting a nod in return made him break out a mischievous smile. "You can come with us they we were about to go to the kitchen."

Being led by the shy Hufflepuff we came to a stop in front of a painting of a bowl of fruit. He then proceeded to tickle a pear and it squirmed, laughed, and then the pear transform into a green door-knob, just your average day at Hogwarts door.

The kitchen was a gigantic, high-ceiling room with five tables identical to the ones in the Great Hall above; they are also in the exact same position. There were also a large quantities of pots and pans heaped around the stone walls, presumably on counter-tops or stoves, and a large brick fireplace at the other end of the hall from the door.

When we stepped inside it didn't take long for the house elves to notice our presence and approach us.

"How can I help you, sirs," one of the elves asked in a squeaky voice.

"Some dinner would be nice," I stated.

With that we were pushed to a table to be seated and within a minute the same table was filled with an assortment of dishes.

"You're Everett, right?" I asked to the boy who led us here.

Looked up for the first sense we ran into each other in the hall. He seemed to remember as he gave me a small smile and nodded his head.

Thinking it was a great time for introductions the boy form the library announced. "Spencer Stone in Ravenclaw, nice to meet you all."

"Zander Windcraft in Gryffindor, it's a pleasure," my potions partner- I mean, Zander followed.

"Everett Goodwitch in Hufflepuff, nice to meet you as well," Everett jump in as well. I might have been my imagination but I thought I saw Zander eyes widened at the moment Everett said Goodwitch.

They all look at me waiting for me to introduce myself. "Cress Nightshade in Slyrtherin, salutations."

"We have all the houses, then. It must have been destiny that made us all met like this," Spencer dramatic declared. "Our bond shall never be broken."

"Weirdo," I said flatly and Zander nodded in agreement.

"Everett," Spencer looked at the Hufflepuff with hopeful eyes.

"I don't know anyone named Destiny," Everett brutality crush any hope the Ravenclaw had of looking cool. "But I think we can all definitely could be friends."

"What are you talking about? We already are friends," smiled Spencer. "Cress and me spent an hours arguing, Zander personally deliver Cress's book, and you fed us all when we were but just poor beggars. Plus we're sharing a meal."


End file.
